A Better World
by PiercetheNightVale
Summary: AU Where Wendla survives her procedure and must decide what to do with Melchior when he returns for her
1. Chapter 1

"We will make a better world for our child," Melchior had been obsessing over those words for the week it had taken him to make his way back to his hometown. Wendla was pregnant. He still could hardly believe it. In just nine short months, Melchior would have a family again. And a real one this time, not one that would kick him out for telling the truth and expressing his love.

He had already written to Ilse to make sure Wendla was at the cemetery the next night. He didn't know if Ilse still considered him a friend. After Moritz's suicide, she had lashed out at people. She had rightfully placed a part of the blame on Melchior. He wasn't a religious man by any stretch, but Melchior had prayed that Ilse would bring Wendla, for the sake of the friendship they once had shared.

So now, Melchior found himself back at the cemetery where he had spent so many nights as a child, thinking and writing. But now, he was just waiting for Wendla to show up. He had someone gotten there ridiculously early, and had a few hours to wait and cleat his thoughts. What would he say to her? Melchior had always dreamed of having children, but this wasn't the best circumstance. He had never regretted what he and Wendla did, but this was a consequence he hadn't considered. He thought their creation was beautiful, but not many others would agree.

Wendla might have even been kicked out of her home already. Melchior didn't know much about her family, but she had sad her mother was very traditional. She had probably been shamed by them already. And Melchior knew that his parents would never take them in. they were still angry about the essay and Melchior getting expelled.

As he waited for Wendla, he wondered just what the hell he was going to do

_ Melchior is coming back, _Ilse said. The two had become very close in the months since Moritz's death and Melchior's banishment. She had been the only one would hadn't made her feel ashamed for the things she'd done. And when she'd told Ilse about the baby, she was the only one who stood by her. Even Wendla's own mother had shunned her. She had committed a sin she knew, but she had hardly known what would result from it. Wendla's mother had left her in the dark, and she was surely partly to blame for Wendla's condition

Wendla had told herself that many times before, but the truth was that she didn't know if that knowledge would have changed her decision. She had known she was about to do something sacred with Melchior, something that should not have been done, but she did it anyways and she felt no remorse. She didn't feel anything but love and devotion until her mother had found out about the baby.

Many times, Wendla had caught her mother writing strange letters that she would not let Wendla see. Every day, he mother looked her in the eyes less. Wendla was sure it had been out of shame. Her mother was ashamed of her. She would probably be kicked out like Ilse had been.

It was in one of these fits of despair that her mother had taken Wendla out late at night. She was confused but happy her mother was showing interest in her again, so she hadn't protested. Until the man had started to forcefully pull her inside. It was then that she could sense deep in her stomach that something was terribly wrong.

"Mama!" she called, "Don't leave me, Mama."

But no matter how much she screamed, her mother did not return. It was then that Wendla began to sense what was going to happen. Since her pregnancy began, Wendla began to read some of the things that Melchior had. She never again wanted to be caught the way she was, with no knowledge of what was happening to her. She read and she learned dangerous and horrifying things. How some men forced themselves on women, how the women were blamed for it. She learned that some women destroyed their children before they were born. She realized with horror that that was what was happening to her now. Her child was going to be stolen from her, and there was nothing Wendla could do stop it.

But she had to try. She screamed and kicked and fought. Her baby needed her, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't protect the child growing inside of her.

"No!" she screamed, as the man grabbed her arms and tried to still her, "You can't have him!" but she was only a small girl against a large man. She could tell it was only a matter of time before she was over powered.

She saw the cloth the man had and knew it was soaked with chloroform. If she breathed it in, she and her child were done for. She wished the Melchior were here. He had helped create this child, and now Wendla needed him to protect it.

"Mama!" she screamed, "Melchior! Someone help."

The man's arms came around and squeezed her tightly. She struggled, but his grip was so tight. She felt the cloth be shoved against her mouth and nose. She continued to fight until the last second for her child, but she could not stop the floor from rushing up to meet her.

It might have been minutes, it might have been days before she awoke. But wake up she did, and when she had regained her senses, she felt empty and hallow. She touched her stomach gently and knew that her baby was gone.

The one thing that had made her feel alive was gone. Murdered against her will. She wept. She wept for her child, and for Melchior, and her mother who was so ashamed she sent her grandchild to die. She wept for her friend Ilse, whose struggles she knew of. She wept for Moritz, who also fell victim to his parents' wishes.

She wept for herself and how the tiny life inside of her had been extinguished. She couldn't have walked even if she'd wanted to. She felt weak and even sitting made her dizzy.

When the doctor came back in to check on her, she could barely understand the words he was saying to her. He called her mother in and Wendla was able to pick up bits of the conversation.

"She lost more blood than she should have, Fraulein," the Doctor, "There is a very real chance she could die.

"You told me this was safe!"

"I told you it was safe on full grown women. But on one so young. She's barely 15, Fraulein Bergman."

"So my child will die?"

"I truly do not know"

She spent the next few days in the hospital for "anemia". She couldn't tell if the doctor's knew of her true condition, but they all seemed to think she would perish from the trauma. But she did begin to physically heal. Her mother seemed ecstatic. Wendla was going to live and she wouldn't be responsible for the death of her child. But Wendla still could not be drawn from her stupor.

Even when her head was clear and her mother led her back home, she didn't speak. She only cried. Wendla couldn't even look at her mother. Having a child out of wedlock was sinful, but it couldn't be worse than destroying a gift from God. All children were placed on this planet for a purpose, and her mother had thrown that way.

She didn't speak for weeks. She was both unable and unwilling. Her parents nurtured her and threatened to get her to speak, but words would never come. She couldn't move from her bed except to do the very basics of human activities. When school started the next term she couldn't bring herself to go. No one spoke of her and some even began to wonder if she had died.

It was a normal day when Ilse had come to see her. She didn't know the specifics of what was happening to Wendla, but she knew it must have something to do with the baby. If Wendla or the baby were in danger, Melchior had to be told.

"Wendla" she said gently as she came in. she was only met with a listless stare. It appeared as if her Wendla was dead, and a doll had been put in her place, "Wendla, please, tell me what has happened."

Wendla looked at Ilse, really looked at her. Ilse was someone who understood what true hardship was like. She would never mistreat Wendla like her parents had, "My baby," she gasped her voice horse from disuse, "My baby is gone." She sobbed.

Ilse embraced her and allowed Wendla to cry into her neck, "You miscarried?" she asked.

Wendla shook her head.

"They took my baby," she said, "I tried to stop them, but-"

"I know, Wendla," Ilse said comfortingly as she stroked her hair, "I know."

"What do I do, Ilse?" she said, "I told Melchior about the child."

"That is actually why I came over" Ilse said, "He's coming home, Wendla"

"I can't see him," she said, "I can't ever see him."

"He'll find out, Wendla," Ilse said, "Your absence from school caused so big of a stir even I heard about it. He'll be worried."

"Let him worry," Wendla said, "He can't know that I lost the child."

"I suppose you'll want me to go tell him you're not coming, then?" she asked,

"Oh please, Ilse. Please." She said, tears streaming down her face.

"I will try, Wendla," she said, "But I can't promise that he won't figure it out. He's a smart boy and he's known me too long to be able to lie easily.

"Please, Ilse you much try."

"I will," she agreed, "Then I will come back here. I see you need me."

Wendla gave her one more quick embrace, "Thank you, Ilse"


	2. Chapter 2

Ilse looked at her watch. It was past midnight and Melchior was probably getting impatient and more than a little worried. She held no real affection for the current Melchior, but the boy of her childhood she still wanted to protect, and he needed to be at peace about Wendla. She was Ilse's best friend now, but she could not lie to the father of her child forever. He had a right to know what had happened.

She approached the cemetery and soon saw Melchior crouching by Moritz's grave. He looked guilty and for good reason. He had been unable to see that his friend was in so much pain. He was part of the reason Moritz was dead.

"Melchior," she said as she stood behind him.

"Wendla!" she whipped around then when he realized it wasn't his beloved, "Ilse?"

"I'm sorry Melchior,"

"Where's Wendla"

"She couldn't make it."

"You told her, didn't you," his tone was accusing and defensive. As if Ilse would truly prevent Melchior from speaking to the girl he loved because of her own anger.

"Of course I did" she said, "Wendla couldn't come."

"Did her parents forbid her from sneaking out?"

Ilse could tell that Melchior would not be satisfied with whatever lie she told about Wendla. They had only spent the one night together, but Ilse could tell that they loved each other with all their hearts. Nothing was going to keep Melchior from her.

"Wendla isn't pregnant, Melchior" she said as gently as she could.

"How did you know about the child?"

"Wendla told me. We're friends."

Ilse kneeled next to him and looked at Moritz's tomb stone. It had almost been Wendla in this graveyard. What she had suffered so far was horrible, but at least she was alive.

"What's happened, Ilse?" Melchior asked, "What are you not telling me."

"She told me not to tell you," she began, "But you must know so you can understand what she's going through.

"Fraulein Bergman found out Wendla was pregnant. Rather than have her marry or be shamed for having the child, she decided that the pregnancy should be terminated."

"No," Melchior said. No. his child there was no way.

"Wendla didn't know what was happening, Melchior," Ilse said "She tried to fight it, but she had the procedure done and the child is dead."

Melchior put his head in his hands. There was no way this could be happening. Everything was finally starting to go in his favor. He was going to marry Wendla and they were going to be a family. How did everything go so wrong?

"I need to see her," he said as he suddenly stood up.

Ilse stood up with him, "You can't Melchior" she said, "She doesn't want to see you,"

"Doesn't want to see me? She loves me and I love her."'

"She loves you and she is overcome with shame for what had happened. Seeing you know will only hurt her. Go back to school, Melchior and give her time to heal."

"She's not hurt, is she?"

"She nearly died, Melchi, but she's getting better physically. Emotionally" she sighed, "She has a long way to go"

"I can't leave without seeing her, Ilse"

"It would go against your nature I know. Just wait until she sends for you.

"How long will that be?"

"I don't know, but if you truly love, you'll wait as long as it takes."

Ilse walked back to Wendla's house thinking through what had just happened. She hadn't been certain that Melchior truly loved Wendla. There had been a small part of her that thought he was just using her friend for sex, like the other men in Ilse's life had been prone to. But now that she'd spoken to him… there was no doubt in Ilse's mind that Melchior was completely devoted to her.

She also knew that Melchior truly wouldn't leave until seeing her. What should she tell Wendla? Ilse could see that she wasn't ready to see Melchior again, but the boy would only wait so long before asking matters into his own hands.

Before she knew it, Ilse was back at Wendla's house and she had no real idea how to proceed. She walked through the door, not bothering to knock. Fraulein Bergman would know who it was.

She walked into Wendla's room. At first, she thought she was asleep. She had an emotional day and it was past midnight, it would make sense for her to be exhausted. But Ilse saw Wendla's body shake and she realized the girl was crying.

Ilse was at her side in an instant, "What's wrong Wendla?" she asked gently.

"Nothing," she sobbed into her pillow.

Ilse ran a hand through the younger girl's hair. Ilse knew that Wendla would tell her what was when when she was ready. In the meantime, she laid down next to Wendla and wrapped her arm around her.

Wendla wasn't sure how long it took her to fall asleep, but when she awoke it was daylight and she was wrapped protectively in Ilse's arms. It wasn't the first rime she had woken up like this and every time she felt grateful for the friend she didn't deserve

Ilse was always by her side even when Wendla didn't tell her what was wrong. She shouldn't have made Ilse go to cemetery that later. She should have just left Melchior there or explained things herself. But Wendla knew that if she saw Melchior, she would lose it again and she didn't want him seeing her weakness.

She turned to Ilse and hugged her back, content for the moment to just feel safe.

When Ilse woke up, Wendla was gone. She panicked for a moment until she heard the sloshing of water from the bathroom. She relaxed and laid pack down in the bed. It wasn't until she saw the bloodstains on Wendla's side of the bed that she realized what had been wrong last night

Wendla spent as long as she logically could in the bathtub just cleaning the blood off of her legs. She shouldn't be surprised that this was happening again. It showed that she was at least healing from her procedure. There had been a part of her that was worried she would never physically be able to have children even if she'd wanted them. But… it was the final proof that her child was truly gone and would never return...

When she couldn't justify sitting in cold water anymore, Wendla got out a quickly braided her wet hair into a messy braid.

When she left the bathroom, she saw Ilse sitting on her bed waiting for her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, gesturing at the stain.

"It was a stupid thing for me to cry about" Wendla shrugged, "I knew this would happen eventually."

"Now you didn't" Ilse said as she stood up, "You didn't know"

"I knew my child was gone, Ilse, this was just further proof"

Ilse could see that she was putting on a brave face, so she didn't push Wendla. Instead, she moved back to bed and began to remove the dirty sheets.

"You don't have to do this, Ilse" Wendla said as she began to help.

"I want to, Wendla," she said

"Why do you care for me?" Wendla asked after a few moments

Ilse thought carefully before answering, "Because I know what you must be going through," she said, "I know what it's like to have your body violated and I know what it's like to feel alone.

"I didn't want you to feel the same things I did. I didn't want you to feel what Moritz felt."

Ilse felt tears begin up well up in her eyes. She thought she was done with crying for her lifetime. The last time she'd cried had been the day of Moritz's funeral the day she had supposedly lost her last friend. She thought she was done caring about people she would eventually lose. Sure, she and Wendla had been friends as children, but as soon as Ilse was kicked out, she pretty much lost all of her school friends. And the people she knew in here colony could hardly be called friends. They took care of each other, but loved each other? No, Ilse was alone until she realized Wendla needed her.

"What are you thinking about?" Wendla asked after the bed had been stripped of its soiled sheets.

"Everything that has happened," Ilse said.

"To you or to me?"

"Both."

"It's the best, Ilse," Wendla said, "The past can't hurt."

"Yes, but it haunts us," she said.

"…Yes."

"And sometimes it returns."

"You're talking about Melchior, aren't you?"

"He loves you, Wendla," she said, "He truly does."

"He loved sinning with me," Wendla said, "But he does not love me."

"Why else would he come back?"

"He was just being honorable"

"He got a 14 year old pregnant, I can't imagine he had much honor," Ilse deadpanned. Wendla couldn't think of a retort for that one, so she simply remained silent. Ilse could see that she was gaining ground, "He told me that he would not leave until he saw you."

"Did you tell him what happened?" Wendla asked quietly, then said again louder, "Did you tell him the child was dead, Ilse?"

"I was left with no choice," she snapped, "Melchior demanded answers and I couldn't lie to him."

"So you betrayed my trust?" Wendla said, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"I told you there was no guarantee I could hide the truth from him."

"Liar," she screamed, not caring that her mother could probably hear her, "I asked you this one thing, and you betrayed me."

"Wendla, please see reason," Ilse said, "Melchior had a right to know."

"Melchior left me, Ilse" Wendla sobbed, "Melchior… I need some space. When I come back… be gone."

"Wendla please," isle begged finally letting her tears fall, but Wendla was already gone.


End file.
